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And, anyway, there wasn't a chance for him to get at the coins. He was with the committee all the time they was out of the room." "And are they sure Mr. Haley was in there?" asked Aunt 'Mira. "He admits it," Marty said gloomily. "I don't know what's going to come of it all " "Hush!" said Uncle Jason suddenly. "Shut that door." But it was too late, Janice had heard all.
"Perhaps he's after the horse-thief too." Blue Pete started. Then his head sank in one arm. "We can't help him thar, Mira. We can't be caught yet. . . . An' the Sergeant wudn't want to get us yet." "It'll be all over soon, Pete," she said more brightly. "Mr. Torrance has promised us the horses when he goes."
Bernard being aware of our presence in the house. I counselled caution, and Mira was introduced to the mother alone; but the child retreated under the fear of a scream which might betoken either joy or despair; nor did her mother ask for her again a strange circumstance, and not of good omen; but we behoved to persevere, and Mr. Bernard himself, accompanied by Mr.
But for some reason the old man came close to her and put his arms about her bulbous shoulders. "There, there, 'Mira! don't you cry about it. You sartainly have got a good heart. An' I won't say nothin' agin' your savin' for the gal. Mebbe she'll need your savin's, too. Broxton Day is too free-handed, and he'll have his ups and downs again, p'r'aps.
"I declare for't, Janice!" she exclaimed. "What you done now?" "Nothing, Aunty save to put a pretty bunch of lilacs on the table for you." "An' them lilacs is always fragrant," agreed the lady. "Who went for the water? Is Marty up?" "Marty wouldn't lose his beauty sleep," laughed Janice. "For the mercy's sake!" gasped Aunt 'Mira. "The pump bench is wet. I declare for't!
Was the Parson seeking solace where poor Mira always said he would? If so, he had little to build on by way of encouragement. The Cranstons missed him sorely when he went back to Gray, and Miss Loomis frankly referred to him as "most instructive" and much broadened and improved. She missed him as any one must miss so well-informed a companion.
There were so many things she wanted to do for all her friends, both in Poketown and back at Greensboro. Some few little things she had made, for her fingers were both nimble and dexterous. But "home-made" presents would not do for Uncle Jason, Aunt 'Mira, Marty, and a dozen other people towards whom she felt kindly.
It was a matter of reflection before I could utter the word "yes," and then a study to give her name. At length I pronounced it. Another daughter made the same query, and I had the answer, "yes," ready, but it seemed a hard study again to recollect the name Mira. The same effort brought to my lips the name of Esther when she addressed me.
The summer and early months of the autumn of 1817 were spent at La Mira, and much of the poet's time was occupied in riding along the banks of the Brenta, often in the company of the few congenial Englishmen who came in his way; others, whom he avoided, avenged themselves by retailing stories, none of which wore "too improbable for the craving appetites of their slander-loving countrymen."
But this was not all that was found in Brannan's case, the lock of which had long since been forced. There was a valuable gold watch presented to Chaplain Davies by the officers and men of his brigade at the close of the war. There were letters which Leonard barely glanced at, some silly, sentimental trash addressed to some one's darling Bertie by his devoted Mira.
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